If I pretended enough that you never existed, then I hope I’ll
soon believe it enough, because the way I loved you with all of my heart and the
way you simply kicked me to the curb was a great loss in my life. To know
that you are still breathing out there somewhere is such a terrible curse. I
pretend you are dead, I pretend you are fiction, I pretend you are every ghost
hiding under every bed I sleep in. I don’t know which will make me feel any
better, but in my head, you don’t deserve to live.
So give me this. Don’t ever come back. If you see me in a
crowd, you blend. If you are walking in my direction, you turn away. If we are
in the same room, you disappear. This is the most ridiculous thing you've ever
read, but it’s better than forgiveness.
You said you never planned this. You said you never meant to
break my heart. You said you are sorry things turned out this way. You said it’s
for the best. Go ahead, why don’t you try and taste all the poison coming out
of your mouth? The truth is not something you stretch for your better convenience,
hon. The lack of urgency to which you hurdle me with words that will save me is a horrible crime. You waited eight
months, asshole.
Mistakes I’ve been listening to Staind's song So Far Away the whole day. Given the obvious fact that Aaron Lewis' singing voice is painstakingly perfect for this song, my
favorite part is the chorus when he sings, “All the mistakes, one life
contained, they all finally start to go away”.
Wish I could just fast forward to a time when I would be able to sing this with heart. Right now it’s all just a lingering
hope, a far-away dream, a grieving fantasy.
Trusting a wolf in sheep's clothing is the first mistake that I want to go away.
Luna
The moon is hanging outside my window right now. I
remember having written a poem about it a few months ago. I called it Luna. I called it the light of all lights. I called it lovely and
mysterious and soulful and yet, and yet…why are you so beautiful up there like
that, yet so lonely, like you wanted me to cry for you?
I look at it now but with a fractured light, remembering
things I’m not supposed to remember. I had made the mistake of sharing such a tender,
fragile, intimate metaphor as the moon with someone who only saw it as a yellow
light. Luna, I tell you, after all this time, it was always only us. Always only just us.
Hi, My Name Is Time
Yesterday I was having an intimate dinner with three
friends at a far, tucked away home-slash-restaurant with a royal blue gate. Pretending
(yet ostentatiously failing at it) that it was not about me, one of my friends gamely
told a story of a broken-hearted girl and the many characters which repeatedly rejected her after her heart was smashed
into smithereens, namely: beauty, happiness and sadness. In the end, after
quite a while, the girl finally found solace and peace in the island of a
mysterious man who in the story whose name is revealed to be “Time”. The end.
Morale of the story which we tried so hard to pretend was not mine: only time heals all wounds.
Even the word sorry
is sorry it ever became a word in any language in the world to permit and
subsequently pardon us our wrongdoings. People make up words for everything
just to be convenient.
But when will we learn that there never has to be a
word for everything? Especially sorry.
I have a Tumblr account for my short posts - photos, music, reblogs, quotes. Longer and more personal poems and prose will be posted simultaneously here and on my Tumblr. Thank you and I love you, bloggers and tumblrs! :)
1) Once upon a time, we accidentally came upon a roof deck somewhere far. The moon made a special appearance above the twinkling lights of the city that had always been mine. I saw things in slow motion in a black-and-white montage, mistaking everything we ever did for love. I could hear you say it now in an exasperated voice, "It was just dinner. God, it was just dinner." 2) Today I purchased a machine that sucked everything you ever took from me, everything I ever gave you. If you looked anywhere, a random stranger from a crowd would never suspect we ever knew each other. Every picture had been deleted, every message had been emptied, every place we ever went to, I'd say, "I've never been there before." I made it sound so true, even my mind now believes it. I've never been there before. 3) Your permission is not needed for the way I choose to heal. 4) I remembered kissing you goodbye at the back door fountain where we used to meet. Even after you pushed my hands away at the bus where you last saw me, my lips still kissed your cheek like they never knew shame nor the words "no". When you plunged the knife, they were the first ones to bleed. Next were my bones, though bones don't bleed. That was how much it hurt. 5) After our last conversation that night, I had to creep into my mother's arms for acceptance. The last time she held me as I cried myself to sleep was years ago when I woke up screaming from a nightmare about my dead father. 6) But you should have been a good friend to me. Right from day one, you should have put me in my place and not after the nth date, the nth touch, the nth kiss. You have always been selfish and vicious. You are not my friend. 7) I left my broken necklace in your hometown, a place which I will deny that I ever went. Please throw my necklace away. We both have no use for it. 8) The abyss of pain in which you left me is a reminder of how I will never forgive you for making my heart so cold, for betraying the love that I once had for you: raw, blind and always, always forgiving. 9) Listen, the moment you told me the truth was the moment I stopped crying for your love and started crying for mine. 10) I wore my heart on my sleeve when I finally trusted someone enough to give it to him in its whole broken, duct-taped glory. He didn't want it after all. With so many pretty hearts to choose, why should he pick the ugly broken one? 11) But I'll be so careful now. I promise, I'll be so full of care. 12) Eighty two years later osteologists would dig up my bones and found no trace of your touch, even at the tips of my fingers which used to hold your face. They held my ghost in question and it only said, "I don't remember ever touching his face."
There was a space between you and me when we're not together
I always thought that it was so easy for you to go by and live your life
While between the two of us, I was the dreamer and the drifter
I was the one who bends with every sway, moves with every swing
Who keeps all your words in a special bottle, even the thoughtless ones Especially the thoughtless ones
I try not to make it a big deal, the coming and the going
But one day, I went to the restaurant where you first took me
And left a silly imaginary space in my side for you to sit down
I laughed on my own because I remembered just how nothing was sillier than when you and I are alone together
-----------------------------------------
Darling, it's sad and evil and painfully true
You only miss me when you remember to.
